


After the party

by stellarel



Series: Dancing on the edge of a storm [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, The Doctor is jealous, no tags head empty, reader gets in trouble and stuff happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarel/pseuds/stellarel
Summary: The reader is in trouble.The Doctor has Feelings.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Series: Dancing on the edge of a storm [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749343
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sort-of sequel to before the party (before the storm) that no-one asked for, i didn't really plan on writing, and had no outline for, but that now exists anyways.  
> Could also just be a oneshot. Idk.

It all happens in a flash. One minute, you're half-heartedly bantering with the rest of the fam, waiting for the computer to finish the job, carelessly thinking you're done with this. Thinking it's all over now. The next, there's an angry man pointing a gun at you. It goes like this:

First, he bursts in, yelling _"What the hell do you think you're doing!_ " Then, he looks at the Doctor, as most people instinctively do when they first enter a room she's in, and then he looks over at you. 

Crouched over the computer, you're still half paying attention to the little icon on the screen, showing your progress second by second. You were almost done deleting his pre-recorded flight path, one that had slowly but steadily been steering the ship towards an asteroid belt for the last few hours now. 

The Doctor tries to get his attention off of you, but that doesn't really work as planned. 

"You! Stop what you're doing! Get away from that!" The man is rushing towards you with long, rushed steps, and pointing his gun in your general direction.

"There's no need for-" the Doctor tries. 

You slowly stand up and instinctively lift your hands up in a vague gesture of surrender. 

The Doctor makes a move towards you, probably planning on getting between you and the bad guy, as she so often does. She doesn't get far though, when the guy turns to her with a wild, enraged expression on his face. "You, you lot, don't move a muscle or she _gets_ it!" 

He has that sort of an unpredictable, chaotic evil kind of air about him, and you hadn't really thought about what someone who wanted to purposefully crash a class 5 luxury spaceship full of innocent people would look like, before, but now that you saw him, you knew he looked exactly like someone who'd do that and _enjoy_ it.

And he's standing in front of you now, staring you down with cold, soulless eyes and an unnervingly calm expression. "What did you do to my ship?"

You don't answer. Partially because you haven't really decided yet which answer is the one that’s least likely to get you shot.

"I'm not going to ask you again." he says, his voice cold and quiet. There's a harsh _click_ of his gun, and he starts to raise it towards you, and the lack of emotion on his face is somehow so much worse than when he'd been angry, and that's when the Doctor makes a mistake. 

She flinches. 

A soft, quiet " _no_ " escapes her. 

The guy turns to look at her. With a smile. A sick, hungry smile. "Oh? She's important, is she?"

The Doctor stands up a little straighter.

You take a breath and tighten your jaw. The sentimental idiot. _There are far more lives at stake here than mine and she knows it_ , you think to yourself.

Then, a little more selfishly, add _oh thank god_. You’re glad she’s getting involved - she did have a reputation of getting people out of tight spots, saving them from the face of danger.

The Doctor takes a breath. "Tell you what. I'll tell you what we did, and in exchange, you don't harm her. Deal?"

He laughs. "Oh, no. You don't get to make bargains here. See, right now, there's no reason for me to spare you, nevertheless listen to what you have to say. I'm smart enough, I'm sure I can figure out what you did on my own." 

He turns to look at you again, with a disgusting, power-hungry look in his eyes. "But she is pretty, though. Would be a shame to waste that. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her first." 

Then, at the same time, he takes a step closer to you, the Doctor moves closer, too, and Yaz lets out a quiet, disgusted sound. 

"Don't you _dare_ touch her!" The Doctor almost growls, and he turns to look at her. Raises an eyebrow a little, in a way that seemed way too calculated to be real.

"Oh, interesting. Is _that_ how it is? Well, then. Maybe I'll make you _watch_." His voice is dripping with - you don't know what it is, exactly, but it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can't see the Doctor's face, not daring to take your eyes off the man in front of you, but you're pretty sure she looks angry.

Gritting her teeth, like she does, her eyes stormy. 

You know the Doctor's mind was probably racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out a solution.  
But even she couldn't outrun a bullet.

You take a breath, hope you don't mess this up, and while he still has his eyes on the Doctor, smiling, taunting her, you grab his gun, move out of the line of fire, and kick him between the legs. 

It's like something breaks, _shatters_ , in the room. Then everything happens at once. 

He lets out a yelp, the Doctor and the others make a collective surprised sound, and they all stumble towards you. 

He falls to his knees in pain, like you'd hoped, and you flip the gun around in your hands a little awkwardly, a little surprised that that had actually worked. He curses at you, but you're pointing the gun at him now, trying to look as intimidating as possible, despite not really knowing what you’re doing.

You're hoping he's the kind of guy to have enough self-preservation instincts to surrender.

"Now. We’re going to steer this ship from now on. Okay?" You say, keeping your eyes on him and trying to keep your voice from shaking. You probably had an unhealthy amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins right now, and were starting to feel a little shaky all over.

"You crazy bitch!" He spits at you. 

"Me? I'm the crazy one? You're the one who was just about to kill a whole lot of innocent people."

"Yeah, mate" Graham pipes up. "That's proper messed up, that is."

"Yeah." Ryan agrees, eyes wide. 

It does bother you that the Doctor is being so quiet. You want to look over at her, make sure everything's alright, but you can't let your guard down now. You can't take your eyes off of him, not yet.

"What should we do with him?" Yaz asks, jumping into action. "Shouldn't he be at jail or something?" Then she furrows her brows a little. “Is jail a thing here?”

You shrug a little. "Anybody got a spare set of handcuffs?"

* * *

Walking back to the TARDIS, it worries you how quiet the Doctor is being. That's not often a good sign.

You turn to look at her, and the small smile on your lips dies down in an instant. She looks angry, and sad, and defeated, and absolutely _broken_. 

The others walk into the TARDIS, chattering lightly. You stop on your tracks in front of the doors, turn around to face her. "Doctor?" 

She lifts her eyes to you, and you don't think you've ever seen so much raw emotion in them before. You furrow your brows a little. Swallow. "Are you mad at me?" You ask quietly, suddenly feeling...small, somehow. "I know you don't like violence, and I don't like it either, but what was I supposed to do? He wasn't listening to any talking, you saw what he was like, and he had a _gun_ in my face, Doctor." 

You're trying to make sense of it all, justify your actions to yourself.

She would've just talked her way out of it, probably.

Even if in your opinion, the guy just totally deserved everything he got.

She stays silent. Licks her lips a little, walks towards you, and reaches behind you quietly to close the door with a soft click, leaving you alone in the hallway. The TARDIS hums quietly. 

The Doctor closes her eyes for a moment, and takes a deep breath.

"I know. I’m sorry.” She says, and she sounds _tired_. “I was just so scared. Of what he might do to you. I couldn't even think clearly- I just _needed_ you to be safe, and-" She makes a vague hand gesture, "I don't know. I'm glad it all worked out, but that was dangerous and reckless of you to do, still. You put yourself in danger."

"I was already in danger, Doctor. I just got myself out of it." You counter. "Besides, reckless and dangerous is kinda your M.O too, you know."

"Yeah, but it's different. You don't regenerate if you get hurt. If you die, you _stay_ dead." She says grimly.

"What did you want me to do?" You ask, a hint of frustration slipping into your voice.

She grits her teeth. Looks away. Sighs. "I don't know. But I just _hated_ seeing you in danger like that. I- it made me feel like someone had cut me open. And what he said to you, I-" She's frustrated, you can see it. She's clenching her jaw, and moving her hands around like she doesn't quite know what to do with them. "I just- I don't- I didn't like how he acted."

"I know. He was disgusting."

"No, that's not...that's not all. " She looks away, sighs again, just a little, and swallows. "It wasn't just that. I hated the way he treated you because I'm supposed to be the one who protects you, and back there, I couldn't. You're so soft and so human and so fragile and I _need_ to protect you, especially-"

She cuts herself off and looks down. Her fingers are curling into fists at her sides. "And I don't like violence, you know I don't, but back there, I- I _wanted_ to hurt him. And then when he started talking about how pretty you are and what he's going to do and how he's going to _make me watch_ , I- it made me so angry, and _scared,_ and I wanted him to _burn_ , and it wasn't just because he was a disgusting, terrible man, but because I-" she lets out a breath, looking like she was trying to puzzle out the rest of that sentence in her head. "I don't want anybody to...touch you like that."

She's _blushing_ , and gritting her teeth, her jawline tense, and it takes you a moment to piece together what she means. You furrow your eyes a little.

"Doctor, what are you saying?"

She lifts her head to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are dark and full of emotion. They're _burning_. "I'm saying," She starts slowly, every word careful, " that I don't like the idea of anybody else touching you, because I want it to be _me_." She looks at you, all dark and brooding and Time Lord Victorious. Frustrated and blushing and _angry_. 

"And I _hated_ seeing him act like that, even the thought of it. I really don't know what I would've done if he had tried to touch you. And yes, okay, maybe it was because he was pointing a gun at you and not giving you a choice, but- but maybe it was also because I want you to be _mine_." 

Your heart is beating way harder than it should, now.

She looks down. "Especially after tonight, after getting a taste of what it could be like."

 _Oh_.

You let the puzzle pieces settle together in your brain. 

You lick your lips a little, and slowly run your hand up her arm, let your gaze run over her – she looks a little disheveled, she's sort of panting, and the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up, and she looks _gorgeous_ like this. You know she raises her eyes to look at you the moment you touch her, but you take your time meeting her eyes anyways. "You were jealous." You point out and smirk, just a little. She grits her teeth. 

You chew on your lip a little, lean away from the wall, just enough to rise on your toes and reach her ear. "I like it." You breathe out, let your lips bush her ear just a little, and she lets out a breath that's almost a sigh. Her hand finds your waist, and she pushes you back against the wall harshly. 

You take in a shaky breath, and she's looming over you, with her eyes dark and wild. 

Just where you want her.

"Don't play games with me." She warns, and you tilt your head a little, to meet her eyes. Sneak your hand to the back of her neck, absent-mindly playing with the hair at the base of her neck. Her grip on your waist tightens, just a little. 

"I'm not playing games, Doctor." You lick your lips. "I am yours if you want me." 

She seems to freeze, so you give her some time to process it. But based on the current position she was in and the way her grip on you seemed to tighten even more, she isn't exactly second guessing this, she's just short circuiting, a bit. 

You slip your fingers under her braces, and tug her closer, just a bit. Reach for her ear again. "I want to be _yours_ , Doctor." You breathe out, and smirk at the almost-there little groan she makes in response.

She leans closer and breathes out, letting the frustration and anger bleed out of her, only focusing on the warmth running through her spine, the soft tingling on her skin, and the hot-heavy something curling at the pit of her stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several people wanted me to continue where that first part left off, and you know what? Here it is. You're welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mood for 2021 is "finishing all my unfinished fics" and HERE I AM once again making a clown of myself by continuing something i wrote last year instead of one of my very much still presently ongoing multichapter fics

"Do you mean that?" She asks, voice quiet and careful.

"Yes."

"And it's not just a trauma response? He-"

You take a deep breath, and resist the urge to roll your eyes. "It's not just a trauma response, Doctor. I've wanted this for a while now. Thought you could tell."

She studies the look on your face for a moment.

"Are you sure?

You meet her eyes, and they are so full of emotion she looks like she might burst. " _Yes_ , Doctor." 

She licks her lips, and one of her hands finds their way to your jaw, and her scent is intoxicating, and you feel like time stands still. Maybe it does - you _are_ leaning against the TARDIS, after all, maybe there were side effects.

Or maybe the Doctor was just very, very good at this. 

She tilts your head a little, and you let her. 

She is so close you can feel her breath fan over your skin.

Then her eyes flicker to somewhere above your head, just for half a second, and her hand drops away from your jaw. She starts digging around her pockets, looking down at herself, and you almost groan, _will you kiss me already?_

She digs out the sonic screwdriver and points it past your head, at the TARDIS, the soft familiar whirring filling the silence, and your curiosity gets the best of you, clearing your head a little.

"What are you doing?"

"Figured that it's best not to let them wonder why we stayed behind." She explains, not looking at you. "I think the boys have a bet going on." She pockets the screwdriver again, and leans closer to you again, her hand now pressed to the wall next to your head.

"What did you do?" You ask, brows furrowed, now a little amused.

She smiles a little, her eyes flickering to yours. "Just a teeny tiny temporal lock."

"You _froze them in time_?" 

"Not quite that drastic. It'll just seem to them as if we followed right after, no matter how long we stay out here."

Then, she leans closer to you, so close that you can feel her lips brush your ear when she speaks;

"I don't like being interrupted."

It makes something warm spread out to your veins. 

You can _feel_ her smile.

"Will you just kiss me already, then?" You ask, letting the impatience and frustration tint your voice.

And she does.

Her eyes find yours again, but only for a second, and then she _kisses_ you, all fire and need and _hunger_.

It's like a switch had been turned on in her head, because now, she isn't hesitating anymore, she is pressing into you and pushing you against the wall and letting her hands travel over your body, sure and firm and solid, and she is _kissing_ _you_ and you _melt_. And you think;

_This is so much better than when it was just pretend._

Because this is real, and this is sincere, and she _wants_ you, and it makes you feel like the air inside your lungs is electric. 

Letting out a breath that comes out more like a sigh, you mold yourself to her form, and wrap your hands around her. She makes a humming sound somewhere at the back of her throat, and it makes something coil at the pit of your stomach. 

Your head is spinning, and there is nothing but her and _her_ _hands on your waist and your jaw and your neck and your shoulders and your chest and her lips on yours_ , and then when you start to feel like you might pass out, she moves on to kissing your neck, making you feel like your soul might actually leave the mortal plane.

She kisses your neck, with enough force that you were sure it would leave bruises, but you didn't even _care_ , and you lean your head against the wall and breathe out a strangled moan. 

She rolls her hips against yours, and at this point, you are _certain_ your mind has entered the astral plane because there isn't a single coherent thought in your head, just _her_. 

"Do you think-" She mutters against your skin, "that now would be a good time to get you out of that dress?"

 _Yes, god yes_ , you think, but aren't quite capable of forming actual words, because her hand is at the back of your thigh and she is pulling you closer to her and you feel like you're going to combust soon.

So what comes out of your mouth is more like a broken, incoherent moan.

"Is that a yes?" She has the nerve to sound amused, and you can feel her smile against your skin.

"Yes." You breathe out, just about managing to conjure up the brain power for forming the single word.

And she hums against your throat. You suppose it's meant to be an answer, but really, your brain doesn't quite get there because you can feel the vibrations of her voice, and it makes your head spin. 

"Well, then." She says, leaning away slightly, giving you the chance to gather your thoughts. "How do you feel about the royal suite?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hurl yourselves to the sun.


End file.
